


of almond milk and extra mocha

by rudderless in an ocean of stars (indelibly_ellie)



Series: The Java Machine Chronicles [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, Fluff, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 19:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11215203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indelibly_ellie/pseuds/rudderless%20in%20an%20ocean%20of%20stars
Summary: In which a teenage Kara has a job working at the local coffee shop, Java Machine, and a certain green-eyed girl quickly becomes her favorite regular.Basically SuperCorp Coffee Shop AU adorableness.





	of almond milk and extra mocha

**Author's Note:**

> A long, long time ago, the first ask I ever received asked for a fluffy coffee shop fic.
> 
> After all this time...
> 
> My forgetful self finally dug up the notebook I jotted it down in.
> 
> Sorry! :/
> 
> Oh, and in case you were wondering- they're both about sixteen in this fic! 
> 
> Enjoy. :)

The espresso machine sputters out a steady stream of pure caffeine under Kara’s watchful gaze even as the sound of the steam wand deafens her ears to almost everything else in the background.

 

Years of experience working with the aging, temperamental machine lets her time everything perfectly- the milk finishes steaming at the exact moment the drip of espresso comes to a halt, and she finishes the latte off with a drizzle of caramel atop the fluffy foam before slipping a lid on and cheerfully handing it to the waiting customer.

 

Careful not to touch anything other than the handle of the still-hot pitcher, she gingerly takes it over the sink for a quick rinse with cold water before washing it thoroughly, setting it back on the rack to dry, and heading back to clean the machine.

 

She takes her time with this, mainly because it’s past sunset, and the flow of customers has dropped off to the point where she doesn't have to rush around at light speed. Aside from customer with the caramel latte, who'd long since left, the store is empty except for her.

 

A quick glance at the clock across the room as she heads back to perch on the stool behind the register tells her she’s got about ten minutes until her favorite customer pops in for her usual drink. It's more than enough time for her to rest her aching feet before getting back up to prep Lena’s order so that it's ready and waiting by the time she walks in.

 

The green-eyed girl orders the same thing every time- a hot chocolate made with almond milk and two pumps of mocha.

 

She comes here regularly enough to have purchased a for-here mug that she leaves at the shop for her daily visits. Kara keeps it on a mostly empty shelf so that it's never disturbed or in danger of being knocked to the ground by even the clumsiest of her co-workers.

 

At three minutes to six, Kara spoons cocoa powder into the bottom of the mug as she fills a pitcher with almond milk and sets it to steam. Afterwards, she strains the foam with a spoon and she pours hot milk into the cup, stirring in mocha syrup to finish it off.

 

The clock strikes six mere seconds before the bell above the door chimes, signaling Lena’s entrance just as Kara makes her way back to the register, hot chocolate in hand.

 

The transaction is, as always ever since the baristas got used to the girl and her order, a silent one. Kara slides the mug over the counter as Lena hands her a shiny credit card with a soft, grateful smile. She never wants a receipt.

 

Lena takes her usual seat in the back, in a booth tucked away from the windows and most of the light. It's not a seat that people usually sit in unless there aren't any more seats to be taken, but Lena favors it.

 

It’s been two years of this, and yet Lena remains as much a stranger to the workers as any of the one-time tourists stopping over in the town on their bus route to some other, bigger city.

 

The only thing Kara knows for sure about the girl is what she's managed to glean off of her appearance and her credit card. A quick glance at the bottom of the card revealed her name- Lena Luthor- and the uniform she occasionally wore during the school year was from the uptown prep school that only the wealthiest from the other side of town could afford.

 

The rest of Midvale wasn't poor, not by any standards. Downtown Midvale was a quiet, pleasant place to live, with a bustling population and some of the best public schools in the state. But the other side of town was another story altogether, filled with mansions spaced far apart from each other, stables, fancy restaurants, and a country club to boot.

 

It was obvious from the shiny, black credit card that had much more heft than the regular flimsy squares of plastic that Kara’s usually handed and Lena’s always-immaculate appearance that the girl comes from money- and lots of it.

 

Other than that, Kara can count the number of things she knew about Lena on one hand.

 

She likes mocha syrup in her hot chocolate and prefers almond milk over regular. She wears her hair up whenever she’s in uniform and only leaves it down if she’s dressed casually. And she never, ever wears makeup.

 

Not that she needs it, though.

 

Lena Luthor has the kind of porcelain complexion that most people spend hundreds of dollars trying to achieve and sparkling eyes that glow a rich, pure green. Her features were the kind you'd expect to see gracing magazine covers- sculpted cheekbones and a jawline that looked like it was cut from marble.

 

Kara’s been caught by various coworkers gaping at Lena’s stunningly attractive expression whenever she was focused on something- perfect brow creased and bottom lip caught between her teeth. It had been the source of repeated bouts of teasing from everyone to the old woman who only worked Sunday afternoons just because she ‘wanted to see the young people’ to her typically no-nonsense boss, Cat Grant.

 

The bell above the door chimes again, signaling the arrival of a new customer and pulling Kara out of her usual, Lena-induced trance.

 

It's a boy who looks like he belongs in the same tax bracket as Lena- dressed in a polo shirt, designer jeans, and doused in some expensive, painfully strong cologne.

 

Unfortunately for Kara, she recognizes him.

 

It's Maxwell Lord, whose father owns the country club and the stables- the latter of which Alex used to hold a job at. Used to, because she'd been forced to quit after enduring repeated, unwanted advances from the jerkwad now currently stinking up her coffee shop.

 

The scowl that pulls down the corners of Kara’s mouth is a furious one.

 

An oil-slick grin splits his lips as he approaches Lena’s corner booth.

 

“Hey there, Luthor. I thought I saw you duck in here.”

 

Lena peers up from the pages of her book with a faint mixture of dismay and disdain flickering in her eyes.

 

Kara resists the urge to leap over the counter and smash him over the head with the freshly washed pitcher in her hands.

 

Alex had come home in tears on more than one occasion after a run-in with the Lord boy during her shifts at the stables. Even her devotion to the horses hadn't been enough incentive for her to continue working under Maxwell’s leery gaze.

 

“Maxwell,” she says, voice laced with a soft accent that Kara’s come to love hearing on the rare occasions when she does speak, “What a _surprise_.”

 

The way she lingers on the last word betrays how she feels about this encounter. Kara almost laughs.

 

“Come on, Luthor, don't be like that.” He laughs, running his fingers through his hair in a way that suggests he thinks the move is highly attractive.

 

It _really_ isn't.

 

The smile Lena levels at him is downright icy. “Don't be like _what_ , Maxwell?” Her voice is measuredly polite, with as much of a challenging edge as the rules of propriety would allow.

 

Kara slips out from behind the counter to intervene before things can escalate even further.

 

As much as she'd love to see Lena tear Maxwell down a few pegs, she really doesn't want to have to clean up the mess that a thrown cup of hot chocolate would make, and judging by the way the other girl’s grip on her mug has tightened, that moment isn't too far off.

 

“If you aren't going to make a purchase,” she says, forcing herself to sound professional through gritted teeth, “I’m afraid that I'll have to ask you to leave.”

 

Recognition spreads across his features at the sight of her.

 

His self-assured smirk returns in full force, and Kara mentally gags.

 

“Little Danvers. How’s your sister? Still a frigid bitch?”

 

Every molecule of her body is now nearly vibrating with the force of her rage.

 

Kara can't help it-

 

She _snarls_ , teeth bared in a feral grimace as her fingers curl into fists at her sides.

 

“Get. _Out_.”

 

There's a building pressure behind her eyes, one she struggles to control.

 

Turning Maxwell Lord into a pile of ashes on the spot was becoming a more and more tempting course of action by the second.

 

It would be so easy to incinerate him, sweep up the remains with a dustpan, and dump them in the garbage where he belonged.

 

 _So_ easy.

 

But still- this is Earth, and Kara couldn't just go around using her powers on people, no matter how much they deserved to be obliterated into little more than dust.

 

She clamps her eyes shut before they can burn red with the force of her heat vision.

 

“Leave, Max. _Before_ I call the police.” It's a valid threat, and they both know it. The chief of police has a soft spot for the Danvers sisters, and has hated Maxwell Lord with a passion since he learned of how he'd harassed Alex.

 

Chief J’onzz might be Kara’s only contender in terms of the depth of their grudges against him.

 

He complies, slinking off towards the door, grumbling under his breath the entire time.

 

She doesn't open her eyes until she’s sure that he's gone.

 

“Thanks for the assist.”

 

Kara spins around just in time to catch sight of the wry smile that tilts the corners of Lena’s mouth upwards.

 

She grins back.

 

“Not a problem.” She nods down toward the mug on the table between them. “I just really didn't want to have to pull out the mop if you threw it at him.”

 

“Am I that easy to read?” A spark of mischief makes her eyes gleam even _brighter_ , if possible.

 

Kara fidgets under her curious gaze. “It's what I would have done.”

 

“I like the way you think.” She sets her book down and holds out a slender hand. “Lena Luthor.”

 

Kara takes it without hesitation. Their joined hands fit together perfectly, and she finds that Lena’s skin is soft and pleasantly warm to the touch. She doesn't think she ever wants to let go.

 

“Kara Danvers.”

 

Lena's fingers tighten around hers, and the Kryptonian’s heart stutters to a stop in her chest.

 

“I know we've seen each other pretty regularly for the past couple of years, but, uh…” A rosy flush begins to spread across her cheeks, and Kara commits the sight of it to memory almost immediately. “It's nice to finally meet you, Kara.”

 

Something warm begins to blossom in the achingly empty spaces between her bones, melting the ice that Kara thought she’d never find herself without after her time in the hollow, bitterly cold void of the Phantom Zone.

 

She smiles.

 

“Likewise.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, the Lip Bite™ strikes again! ;)
> 
> Leave a review, kick Maxwell Lord's ass across the galaxy. 
> 
> :D


End file.
